


Bloody Believers

by orphan_account



Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Tumblr, au im sorry, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 18:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wants to go home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody Believers

**Author's Note:**

> neverlasting-legend asked: prompt: he took her so she wouldn’t forget him; she stopped believing in him anyway.

He’s boxed into a corner; there’s no escape. Nothing he can do. This loss of control feels like the most drawn-out, torturous pain that Peter has ever endured, like flames licking at his toes then rising to a deadly inferno- boiling him,  _scorching_ him, from the inside out. It blackens his already soot-encrusted heart, surges up through him and to the gaps in his teeth, crackling at his gums.

The fire is terror as much as pain, but he will never let this show. It’s a different kind of heat to the one he’s used to- the heat that comes with Wendy’s porcelain skin, with bitemarks blooming across her hipbones- it’s a heat that is going to burn him alive and leave nought but charred bones in its wake.

The old man- Rumplestiltskin- has him trapped, a knife to his throat. The cold metal hums with magic, with power, and Peter can feel its chill seeping into his skin. Dark One’s fingers are clutched in his hair, pulling so it brings tears to his eyes but he will  _never_ cry, not for anyone, and he kicks out and screams and rages, but it’s no use. The old man’s hold is strong. The knife is sharp.

He is going to die.

The thought makes cold fury, acidic and potent, rise in his gut. He is  _Peter Pan,_ king of Neverland, reborn from the very spine of the island, leader of the Lost Boys- and here he is, about to have his throat slit by a… a  _pixie_ man. Despicable.

He hisses, spits in his face, but the old man’s grip on his hair does not loosen. In fact, he only tugs harder, and another wave of vehemence coils up inside him.

 _Wendy_ is the only one allowed to touch him. Wendy, the only girl he ever brought to his domain, the only girl to stay. She is  _his,_ and only she can mark him. Just as he marks her, he thinks, but this does not make them equals.  _Never._

The blonde (Saviour) watches him with impassive eyes, but the corners of her mouth are downturned, Henry clutched in her arms, the boy’s face hidden against her chest.  _You have fire,_ he’d said to her,  _I like fire._

Flames are interesting enough when they’re alight in another’s eyes, but they soon lose all admiration when crackling beneath one’s feet.

“Last words, boy?” Rumplestiltskin asks, and Peter expects him to give an impish chuckle but the question is surprisingly sombre- perhaps the old man isn’t as sadistic as he appears.

“ _Wendy_ ,” he hisses, commanding, “tell them to  _release me._ ”

(he shall not beg)

The girl is leaning against  _Bae,_ of all people, her blonde curls in disarray and her nightgown torn. She looks at him with sad, sad eyes, lips trembling, and says nothing. She glances at the man who  _left her behind,_ and in her expression Peter can see  _everything_.

Wendy Darling wants a home. A family. Things that her precious Bae can supply her with easy as breathing, should she just leave with him. She can go live in his house, eat his food, laugh with him  _grow up_ -

Stupid.

Peter tried to convince her she didn’t  _need_ that;  _he_ was her family, Neverland her eternal playground. All he wanted was forever. All he wanted was for her to stay, to be his, to never ever leave.

“ _Wendy!_ ” he growls.

She inhales shakily, turns her head to look at him. There are tears in her eyes, but the quiet strength he has tried to build into wild ferocity for  _so long_  is present in her tone when she whispers, “No, Peter.”

A thousand memories of her kisses, her awful jokes, the soft skin of her breasts and her  _taste_ splinter through the backs of his eyes and he gives a choking snarl, and he wants to spit out cruel words until she’s reduced to the girl in the cage but the betrayal makes the flames rise higher, and smoke clogs his malevolence, leaving only a sour taste at the back of his teeth.

Rumplestiltskin gives a long exhale, and it sounds to Peter like an axe whistling through air towards the chopping block. A finality, more pure than anything he’s ever heard.

(except, perhaps, the sighing of his name against a smile)

The knife bites into his throat, and whips across the pale skin in one long, jerking stroke. Blood hits the ground just before his knees do, pouring down his chest in gushing streams, a gory canvas in red-and-green.

Somehow, he twists just before he crumples like a ragdoll and ends up flat on his back, staring up at the girl he pledged to keep for always, hands clutching at his throat to try and stick the pieces together. They slide apart beneath his fingers, blood welling up between them, and scarlet is dribbling from his mouth, dirty dirty _dirty._

Neverland quakes beneath their feet, a last lament to the king with no crown.

She’s leaning over him, choking out words through tears, and his last thought is of how much he prefers it when she’s laughing.

**Sorry it took so long, I got a little caught-up with the other prompt… I’m not sure if this is exactly what you were looking for, but here you go :)**


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